World So Cold: Vandermars
by Vandermars
Summary: A thin line blurred. His shirt drowning in remnants of soap; a pale sickness from the night before. Witness accounts haunt, blind, gather the stones. A strong accusation of rape. Troy/Vandermars centric. Troy Vandergraff's side for 'The Rapes of Graff


_**World so cold**_

_**(A Vandermars Story)**_

_Previously On Veronica Mars:_

_Barely, her heart stirred beneath her aching chest, her gaze disappearing in a heavy emptiness as she ascended the steps of the Neptune Sheriff's office. Her white dress giving the impression of a tarnished innocence, her hair stringy, clinging desperately to her collarbone. _

_Her voice over fragile, as if her strength falls faintly in her words, "I need to report a crime." She swallows, though nothing aids the bitterness her throat failed to ease. The remnants she only assumed to be the makings of a, 'Rum, coke, and roofie.' _

_An ache touched her legs, brushing the small bruises forming in her skin from her walk from Shelly's party, her car trashed as a message called out to her best friend, Lilly Kane's, killer, 'Abel, it should have been her'. Veronica wiped her face with her palm, a pain rushing in her head, wanting the images to fade. _

_His back resting in his seat, the scene fades smoothly as Sheriff Lamb shifts in the center's focus, himself leaning against the desk, his newly acquired office resembling nothing of her father's order. _

_"Is there anyone in particular you'd like me to arrest or should I just round up the sons of the most important families in town?" Lamb seems to scoff, false concern not even evident as his gaze sweeps alongside her, his voice crisp, sarcasm laced. Nothing displaying in his tone as a tear soaks the face of the girl sitting frightened opposite himself. Her make-up smudged, her body void of otherwise emotion. _

_Scene turns to 'Credit where Credits due', shuffling footsteps pause lightly as Troy Vandergraff slowly approaches a frustrated Veronica trying to adjust the damage purposely applied to her tire, her eyes occasionally darting to the sunlight streaming the length of the parking area outside Neptune High. _

_"Flat?" Asking he slips his palms softly from his pocket beginning to kneel carefully before her as she mumbled, "Just as God made me." _

_Trying to hold himself steady, he seemed to catch even a sampling of her gaze as Troy replied back in her tone, minus-ing the slight intensity she gave off, "I'm Troy by the way." _

_Glancing beside him slowly, her voice lessened as a sort of smile lay on her lips, "I'm Veronica." _

_Scene changes slowly, wrapping the scene in the wave of a light glowing off an outside lamp, tracing the gentle touch of his lips as Troy and Veronica fall inside another kiss outside her apartment door. Following their movements in 'The Wrath of Con'. Veronica's voice breaks the silence as the scene brings the camera to--the harsh shoving of books clattering the inside of Troy Vandergraff's locker as he stuffs his work in carelessly. _

_Veronica turning to face him sharply, as if looking down on him despite his towering frame, her arms pressing deeply to her chest, "I'm just glad we weren't dating when you were kicked out of those two schools for drug possession and trafficking." _

_The distant vibration of car wheels disappearing inside the hushed gravel gave way to a ringing phone as Troy, 'You Think You Know Somebody', fumbles for his cell, as he does we hear the earlier voice over locker conversation between Troy and Veronica. _

_"What does that have to do with us now?" Troy asked just as Veronica, offering him no breathing room, demands, "Because you never told me." _

_The screen fades to black._

_(End previously ons)_

_**Chapter one: An Innocent Child with a thorn in his heart**_

And his breath fell empty...

...A crashing wave of nausea beautifully tugging as his stomach flipped uneasily. A numbing slumber rising in the echoing feeling of pins and needles. His eyes flickering, a steady stream of evening light filtered through the curtains, rousing his body.

_As if it were simple._

As if his tired eyes weren't sunken within his pale face, his features a mask of his false certainty in himself. He barely trudged through the kitchen, his footsteps gingerly walking the tile, a pounding beneath his head coursing through him. His blood a distant rush, intense in his wrist, a soft thud muting his ears.

_As if it were that simple._

His attention caught as...it poured longingly before him, wrapped in a waterfall of rich hot water as the freshly brewed coffee splashed within it's ceramic mug. Her thumb rubbing the handle, lulling her mind calm as the drink swished, swished distantly. A droplet evaporating along the weariness of the table, half-hidden beneath blue prints and layouts.

He barely made contact, his throat dry and his skin warm, entirely colorless. As his gaze swept along her firm stance, her back slipping straight along the chair, he took in the creaking of the wooden leg's movements. _A rhythmic touch_. _Beat and squeaking along the floor_.

"Finally has the decency to at least show up when he's hung over." A crisp greeting dripping in seriousness and criticism, his father lifted his gaze only to shift pages in his morning report.

The black ink would have stained his own fingers, or rather, his mark would have been left on the lined typed pages.

Pulling a seat before him, Troy Vandergraff slumped against it, exhausted, his clothing messy to his body, drenching him in the scent of cheap quarter soap. His nose twitching from the overbearing reminder.

Leafing through the Hearst pamphlet, he tapped a bit on the, _'Get to know Hearst weekend'_ header as if his gaze pleaded, _'Isn't this enough?_' But taking the first steps had been a battle he clearly lost, even despite his therapist's nagging reassurances and programmed comforting voice to guide him. It was a hundred percent--

"Troy, mind getting that."

It was a statement. A pure. Demanding. Statement. The only words his mother had managed to slip between fragile sips of her morning coffee since his arrival a few days before. The ping of the doorbell ingrained in the hollow crest of silence as it peaked. As if speaking to him pained her in embarrassment.

She loved him, or at least she would say walking home from Sunday services along with the girls, trying not to think of her drugged up son on her way to brunch at the Neptune Grand. Her shrill voice piercing the blurriness weighing on his thoughts as he tossed the pamphlet clear opposite him, turning it beneath his father's careful eye. Mr. Vandergraff merely glanced at his son strictly, tracing his heavy footstep's, his boy's long exaggerated sigh as he shuffled his way to the knocking flooding through the walls. The chiming of the bell, ringing through his ears.

Running his fingers to touch the wood engraving on the door, Troy placed his palm on the handle, pulling it before him as he caught snippets of his parent's conversation.

_'Comes in nearly four in the morning...'_ His father tutted in disapproval as his mother hummed to his voice. A deep soft vibration on her lips. _'If his grades hadn't been improving...'_

Rubbing his eye, Troy stiffed the yawn he was caught in, himself completely ragged. He simply shook his head, his brown hair matted as he heard, _'If he hadn't started even staying in school...'_ Stuffing his hands deep in his pocket's, Troy's thumbs hooked on his pants, as he bounced on his feet, a smirk on his rounded face. His gaze tilted.

"As much as I'm sure you would look good on the calendar," Troy mumbled; a pre-practiced innocence and yet, unwilling to hide his trademark sarcasm. After all, half of Neptune already had him pegged as refusing to change. Sliding his side further down the length of the entranceway framing, his body inched lightly as he remarked, "I'm just not interested,"

Tapping his shoe harshly to the doorstep, (Poud...Tap...Shuffle...Pound...the noises drilled in Troy's aching ears) Sheriff Lamb's fingers brushed restlessly along the flashlight fastened to his belt. His tan slacks baggy, his uniform otherwise pressed. _Neptune's Finest_, Troy rolled his eyes, waiting to utter...something.

"I'm sure my father already paid for whatever you're selling."

Police ball? Another attempt at the deputies auctioning themselves off? He had heard about that one, even with his stint in his new school in Albuquerque before making his way back to California for the collage meet and greet. Back to the finances of the _prestigious 090909_ zip code he usually took advantage of when his family had made Neptune it's temporary home.

But upon being busted for trying to sell steroids outside the school his father had sent him off to, and hearing his girlfriend Shauna disappear in the night while he found himself frisked and slammed into the side of a wall from the officers his father had waiting for his next potential screw up, Troy finally accepted that well, he had messed up. And though he really doubted it at first, his father had stripped him of his money and potential funds.

Sure he had been pissed when Veronica Mars had flat out told him off their last meeting when he had dated her in Neptune, her blonde curls rising above her lowering shoulders. Her black clothing pressed along the curves of her chest, her petite frame. And he nearly punched the hell out of his steering wheel driving on the broken gravel embedded in the road, his father's car wheels wearing thin. His cell tossed carelessly in the depths of the passenger seat, sunken, and replaying the vibration as the remainder of Shauna's voice disappeared in a trail of brightly wrapped candy. His thumb flicking the scrunched up pages of the letter replacing the steroids he had been providing across state lines.

_'Damn it'_ The words paused wet on his tongue, as he heard Veronica's voice knee deep in her words, taunting him, knowing he was nothing but a manipulative charmer trying to use her, to take advantage of her P.I resources. He crumbled the pages, holding the newly made rough ball to his lips as he eased his eyes through the glass, neglecting entirely.

But that was then--a year before--

Sheriff Lamb's palm pressing harshly to his wrist pulled Troy sharply from his memories, his pulse challenging the fog sleeping in his mind. His own stomach leaning to the finely placed brick wall his father had designed their home from as Lamb stood behind him, tugging his arms firmly. A pain surging through his skin, a desire he used in the past to know he was still alive--still trying.

"Troy Vandergraff," Lamb scoffed, sliding the bitter metal of the cuffs to Troy's wrists, scraping a thin layer of his skin in the process.

Breathing hard, Troy lifted his gaze intently, running through his possible list of offences recently. _Head home_. _Attend the first day of the 'Get to know Hearst weekend'_. _Uncomfortable reunion with a ever so more niceness challenged Veronica Mars and her harsh stubbornness_.

Wishing he had movement in his palm to rub his aching jaw, he replayed the punch he took to the face trying to defend her at the night's on campus party. His attempt in showing he had, sorta, grown up in his ways. And then there was--

"You are under arrest for the rape of Stacey Wells."

Suddenly the scent of coffee made his throat burn and scratch, and his mother's humming a simple act of neglect as Mrs. Vandergraff only looked down at her son. Her bulky husband wiping the gray hair on his face as he approached the entranceway, following her padded steps.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Troy." His father growled, his gaze barely acknowledging his son. Or wanting to.

_I wish I knew_, was all Troy could mouth as Lamb jerked him from the wall to the amusement of the family's neighbors fetching their paper, walking their pets, pulling tight leashes as they jogged to Dog Beach on the California coastline.

_Welcome home_. Troy sighed heavily, feeling his head collide with the underside of the roof as he struggled inside the back seat of the Sheriff's car, his 6'1'' frame uncomfortable in the cramped space.

Lamb slammed the door in a tight echo as he pounded his way to the area behind the wheel. His eyes catching Troy's reflection in the mirror as he turned it, grinning at him in a knowing sort of way.

_Unbelievable_.

Shifting himself upward, Troy's eyes fell on the shadows of passing houses as he lay himself to the torn loose threads of the seat.

_Welcome home_.


End file.
